The first person she saw as she pushed open the front door was Carl. Her heart stuttered and she couldn’t stop the little gasp that escaped her. He stood by the hall table, sifting through the wads of junk mail that littered its surface. Bella fumbled the door shut. Her hands were actually shaking.
“Hi Bella,” he said, casually. He wasn’t looking at her. Bella mumbled something in reply and edged past, trying not to betray her nervousness. She reached the kitchen, hoping that Jake was there but it was Veronica that stood by the stove, stirring something in a saucepan. She had a cigarette slotted between the long fingers of her hand, and a grey tendril of smoke curled upward towards the ceiling. She glanced up and smiled briefly.
“Hi Bella.”
“Hi.” Bella dithered by the table for a moment, wanting to leave the room but unable to see how she could do it without looking rude. She went to the fridge, hoping for alcohol. There was half a bottle of wine there, thank God, and she reached for a glass.
“Haven’t seen you for ages, it seems like.”
Bella tried to smile. “Well, yes – I’ve been busy.”
“Work?”
“Mmm.” She finished her glass in one chilly gulp. “Is – er, is Jake here?”
“Not yet,” said Carl, unexpectedly behind her. Bella jumped, she couldn’t help it. She sensed rather than saw his smile. Veronica had turned back to the stove and was frowning down at the saucepan, her cigarette-free hand moving the spoon in one constant, smooth circular motion. Bella dragged her eyes away, half hypnotised. Carl leant his long length against the kitchen counter and folded his arms.
“Jake alright?”
“What?” said Bella, jolted.
“I said, is Jake alright?”
“Yes. Of course.” She could hear the defensiveness in her voice but she couldn’t stop it. “Why wouldn’t he be?”
As she said that, panic rose up in her throat. She was trapped here with the two of them, trapped… she sloshed the remaining wine into her glass, the neck of the bottle chiming against the rim of the glass.
“Steady,” said Carl, sounding amused. “How are you, more to the point?”
“I’m fine,” said Bella. She took another gulp of wine and fought for something non-committal to say, something to deflect Carl’s interest. “I’m just a bit stressed, you know – “
He was still looking at her. She was very aware of the size of him, the way he seemed to fill the room, the essence of him pressing outwards, suffocating her. Bella swallowed. She took a tighter grip of her wineglass, pressing her fingertips against it, hoping to stop her hand shaking.
“You look a bit stressed. Jake not taking care of you, is that it? I should have a word with him.”
Bella made her mouth stretch at the corners in an approximation of a smile.
“Really, Carl, it’s fine. He’s a bit under the weather at the moment, actually – “
“We’ve noticed.”
Beside Carl, she saw Veronica stiffen slightly. The sudden urge to scream out I know took hold of her. Bella closed her eyes briefly, fighting down the words. Carl was looking at her intently. She felt panic begin to rise up again and fought against it. Say something, Bel, you idiot, deflect his curiosity…
Then Carl seemed to abruptly lose interest. He turned to Veronica and pulled her sharply against him, so quickly she let out a little exclamation of surprise. He kissed the side of her head with a violent smack.
“You should kick him into touch,” he said, his words muffled against the side of his girlfriend’s head. Veronica stared down at the floor, pinned against Carl’s chest. “You’re a lovely girl, Bella. You deserve better. Get that brother of mine into line. You know you can do it.”
Bella heard, or thought she heard, the menace underlying the words. Get that brother of mine into line… was he telling her that he knew that she knew? Or did he just suspect? Had – oh horror – Jake told them both that he’d told her, Bella? If he had, what were they plotting? Were they plotting to ensure her silence? Oh Christ… Bella put her glass down abruptly. The smell of pasta sauce was making her feel sick. She muttered a brief goodbye and headed for the door.
She went into the bathroom on the first floor, as it was the only door in the house with a lock. She couldn’t bear to be naked with the two of them just a floor below but she turned the shower on to fool them into thinking she’d got into it. Then she sat on the edge of the bath, enveloped in damp, billowing steam, biting her nails.
After twenty minutes, when her nails were reduced to ragged edges and the bathroom walls were just visible behind clouds of white vapour, she heard the crash of the front door. Immediately, Bella’s head shot up. She scrambled for the taps of the shower and wrenched them off, listening out for voices in the hallway. Was it Carl or Veronica leaving or – she heard a voice and sighed with relief – it was Jake. Cautiously, she put her head around the door of the bathroom. She could hear muted voices from the kitchen downstairs. Bella hurried along to the bedroom and closed the door firmly behind her.
She was in bed when Jake opened the door quietly. He came into the room quietly too, almost sheepishly. Bella looked at him and was swept with longing to have the old days back again, those first heady loved-up days, when all that mattered was when they were next going to bed. It’ll never be the same again, she thought to herself. Everything’s changed now. It’ll never be fun or light-hearted again. Tears pricked her eyes but she managed to smile.
“Hi you.”
He sat down on the side of the bed nearest her. He’d been hesitant with her since his revelation, shy to touch her. She was glad, in a way. Bella put her hand out to him and he took it, after a moment.
“You okay?”
Was everyone going to ask her that? She nodded. He looked awful; his eyes bloodshot, his hair limp with grease, the collar of his shirt yellowed and unwashed. Pity rose in her and she squeezed his hand.
“Have you had dinner yet?” he asked.
Bella shook her head. She had no appetite these days, none at all. She’d stepped on the scales in the bathroom this morning to see she’d lost nearly half a stone. Still, she couldn’t eat. All she wanted was to drink, to wipe away feeling – and memories.
“I’ll make you something. No, don’t shake your head. You’ve got to eat something, you’re wasting away.”
“You could bring me a glass of wine,” said Bella. Somehow it was easier to pretend she was ill than to work up the energy to get up.
“Okay.” Jake got up off the bed and took off his jacket. Bella watched him in the dim light of the bedroom and felt a miniscule pulse of desire, a pale ghost of what she’d once felt. She grasped at it, thankful to feel anything but like a willow-the-wisp, it slipped past her and was gone and she was back to nothing, emptiness. She drew the duvet cover more tightly about her.
He was downstairs for a long time. Bella got out of bed once, almost resolved on following him down to the kitchen. She stopped with her hand on the door. She couldn’t; she couldn’t sit in a room with the three of them. She’d go mad, or start screaming, or do something that would mean the game was up. She went back to bed and lay down again, trying not to cry.
Jake came back with not just a glass, but a full bottle of wine and a plate of steaming pasta.
“V told me to give you this,” he said, proffering it. Bella took it slowly. Her initial reaction was to recoil and thrust her hands out against it, warding it off.
“Did V give you this for me, just for me?”